


Gnossienne

by whitchry9



Series: 23 Emotions [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Extended Metaphor, Extended Metaphors, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lies, POV Second Person, Stream of Consciousness, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hits Foggy, in that moment that he finds Matt on the floor, that perhaps he never really knew Matt at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gnossienne

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [23emotions](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/23emotions) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> gnossienne - n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand.
> 
> http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/52093177832/gnossienne-3-by-reader-karin-josephine

In that split second, after the light of the billboard shines over the lower half of the face that's lying on your best friend's floor, you realize who it is, and what it means.

 

Because now there are so many things about Matt that you are realizing, the pieces that you didn't even know were out of place finally fitting in, and you can see the whole picture, the real picture.

 

And the betrayal stings, because he's your best friend and you're his (or you thought you were) and you were sure you knew Matt Murdock inside and out. It turns out that you only knew the facade of Matthew Murdock, that there are parts of him you never knew, may never know. How he became this person who fights against everything Matt stands for, who uses violence in a way Matt always seemed grossly uncomfortable with. It's like there's a part of him you never knew was there, a house you knew and grew up with and suddenly discovered there was an attic hidden behind a door that was always locked.

You're not sure you want to know what Matt's hiding in there. You're not sure you even want to open that door, or if you want to back away slowly, pretend you never saw it, replace the sheet that was covering your eyes for so long. You're pretty sure you won't be able to though.

 

Instead you wonder what will become of you after this, neither of you knowing how to navigate through this new thing that you will have. You're not sure you want to call it friendship. You're not sure it will be. (Is a house still a house?)

 

You're not sure you know how to navigate anymore, the things you thought were true may not be. Matt Murdock was blinded at nine (there are fourteen steps to the second floor), his father died when he was ten (there is a closet on the second floor with no light switch), he has a strange obsession with Thurgood Marshall (the wallpaper in the second smallest bedroom is a dusty rose), and he is definitely blind (there is no attic there is no attic there is no attic).

 

You're not sure if the landscape has changed or if it's just the way you're seeing it.

You're not sure if you've been foolish all these years or if there's something else.

 _How could you not see it?_ (The house is so much bigger from the outside. He is so much more than he seems.)

 

You want to deny it, still, despite what's staring you in the face (he's on the floor in a pool of blood, you are standing on a floor you thought never existed) but you can't because the evidence is finally making sense. His other phone (the window that you could never find from the inside), all the cuts and bruises (the door he said led to nowhere), and the lies (the lies).

 

You're not sure how he hid these things from you for so long, or perhaps more importantly, why. You have so much to ask him, so much anger and confusion and disappointment and betrayal, because there is so much more to this man than you ever thought.

(You thought you knew him more than anyone else. You think it would hurt worse if you were still right.)

 

You want to say these things, to ask what else you don't know, but the only word you can find is _“Matt?”_  


End file.
